Under the Table
by Vincenti
Summary: Canon situation of the Three Broomsticks OOTP - the smutty version of the events that took place there. Harry/Rita


"What are you up to?" Harry asked, sitting down and staring around at Rita, Luna and Hermione.

"Little Miss Perfect was just about to tell me," said Rita. "Am I still allowed to _talk_ to him?"

"Of course," Hermione answered coolly.

Harry glanced at Rita. Her usually wild hair was merely wavy and set about her shoulders, leading down to her acid-green robes. A buttoned blouse of the same color showed, with the top few buttons undone – his gaze darted to the exposed tops of her large breasts, and skated down the cleavage between them, pressed together tightly in green. Something caught his eye – he looked up to see Rita's sparkling eyes viewing him from behind her jeweled glasses, a little too much understanding in her gaze for his liking. Harry looked away quickly.

Hermione had just said something, but Harry missed it. Rita took a calm drink from her glass and whispered, "Cho's a pretty girl, Harry?" Suddenly Harry jolted in his seat – a slim hand from Rita's direction had roughly brushed against his lap.

Hermione hadn't noticed. "One more word about Harry's love life and the deal's off and that's a promise," she said hotly.

The hand stopped, then slid up Harry's thigh to his crotch and began to roughly knead his genitals through the fabric of his trousers. Harry's erection bulged excitedly.

"What deal's that?" Rita glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye, and he shot her a sharp look. Her expression changed to one of surprised innocence, but the hand beneath the table moved to forcefully undo his pants. Panicked, Harry checked to see how many people could see what was being done under the tabletop, but realized that the dark tablecloth draped low enough to cover himself completely. Looking back up, he saw a mischievous smile playing on the corners of Rita's cherry-red lips. The hand pulled down his zipper with a swift motion. Harry swore he saw her wink at him before she looked away.

"You didn't say anything about a deal, girly, you just told me to come here. I didn't even know dear Harry would be _present_." She emphasized the last word as her hand deftly slipped into Harry's undershorts, making him inhale sharply and clench his jaw for a moment to keep from gasping. She groped his balls, her long nails clicking, then lightly raking his skin as her hand moved to grasp his cock. "Oh, one of these days…" she finished dramatically, her lithe hand slowly stroking his stiff member. Harry had to close his eyes for a few seconds, but shook his head to come back to the conversation.

"Yeah, yeah, one of these days you'll be hired again and write terrible lies about me and Harry again," Hermione said in a disinterested tone. Rita's hand began to slowly pump up and down on Harry's cock. "Try to find someone who cares."

Rita narrowed her eyes and brought her left hand under her chin, but under the table, the other was pumping Harry enthusiastically.

"The _Prophet_'s printed tons of horrible stories already," she retorted. Her hand sped up, jerking him off vigorously. Harry clenched his fist around his bottle off butterbeer to keep his hand from shaking. "All _without_ me, you'll notice."

He glanced at Rita and noticed that almost no motion of her arm was visible, though her arm pumped his cock faster still. He worked to keep a straight face.

Rita abruptly stopped pumping. Unsatisfied, Harry started to react- but then felt her supple fingers grasp his balls, nails digging in as she fondled them skillfully.

Rita turned to look at him, eyes sparkling naughtily. "How does _that_ make you feel, Harry?" To Hermione and Luna, she was asking about the articles. "Betrayed? Distraught? Misunderstood?" She continued to massage his genitals.

"He feels angry, obviously," said Hermione. Rita's thumb looped around Harry's

cock, encircling all his genitals, and gave a rough squeeze. Harry gasped but turned it into a cough. "He's been telling the truth to everyone, and the Ministry won't believe anything he says." Her fingers flexed over Harry's cock, giving his crotch an aggressive

rubdown.

"So you're sticking to your story, then, Harry?" Rita grasped his throbbing cock again. Pre-cum dribbled onto her fingers, sticking to her red nails. "You maintain that You-Know-Who is back?" Her hand started to knead and squeeze, and more cum leaked onto her hand. She stared Harry down, and he glared right back, with anger and lust. "You stand by all the crap Dumbledore says, about You-Know-Who's return and that you were the only person who witnessed –?"

"I wasn't the only one, there were a dozen-odd Death Eaters there too." Rita started jerking him off at full speed, red nails a blur as her hand pumped with enthusiasm. "Want their names?" Harry asked through clenched teeth.

"Of course," Rita replied. Her expression went sour. "But Little Miss Perfect wouldn't want me to write about that, would she?" Her hand slowed to a torturous crawl as she glared across the table at Hermione. Harry could feel his cock ache with need, and only kept himself from grunting with great effort.

"Actually, that's what Little Miss Perfect _does_ want," Hermione said matter-of-factly. Rita's hand teased Harry's cock with a slow stroke.

"You really _want_ me to report what he says about You-Know-Who?" Rita asked in a stunned voice.

"Yes, I do." Rita's pace increased, pumping Harry energetically. "He'll give you all the details, all the facts. The true story. He'll tell you the names of the -" Harry zoned out of the conversation, as Rita was jerking him off forcefully – her hand clutched his cock as it pumped him, nails digging into his skin. She felt his muscles tighten and knew his orgasm was here.

Harry gave a great coughing grunt and turned his head down to hide his face as the pleasure in his groin burst. His cock spurted vigorously, streaking the underside of the table with semen as it shuddered in Rita's pumping hand. His reaction made her jolt in surprise, knocking her glass of firewhisky down her front.

"-oh, get a grip on yourself," Hermione said irritably, tossing some napkins across the table, oblivious as to the real reason Rita jumped.

She rode his orgasm out, jerking his cock as his seed dripped over her fingers, and Harry sighed softly with the pleasure of release.

Working hard to catch his breath quietly, Harry snuck in a look at Rita. The firewhisky had soaked the front of her blouse, sticking skintight to her breasts – he felt his cock throb again when he realized that her nipples poked out hard from the wet fabric. As Rita dabbed herself with napkins, she caught Harry's eye, then brought her right hand above the table. Locking eyes with him, she slipped the first finger into her mouth and sucked the last of his seed off of it. Harry grinned, and she winked before giving him some napkins under the table to clean up with.

"Okay, Harry?" Hermione ventured, and Harry focused back on what was happening at the table. "Ready to tell the public the truth?"

"I suppose," he replied, watching Rita suck at the tip of the Quick-Quotes Quill – she caught his eye and smirked.

Something told him these interviews would be a lot more exciting than usual…


End file.
